Johanna surely meant it as bravado and innuendo, especially with the smirk, the teeth in her lip. There's a part of Kate's brain that knows that, a part that catches on the way the bite makes it go red and soft and will remember later what that looks like. The rest doesn't care. What she hears is what she heard before when Johanna threatened to pull out her hair and shove it down her throat. Earlier it got her to stop playing and come fight; now it gets her to stop playing and leave.
Nobody takes anything from me I don't give them, she wants to say, but that's too revealing and not true enough. Even if she could get the words out she'd rather not let Johanna have them. So she just tilts her head like she's considering, shoves down the roiling flare of anger before it can spend more than a split second on her face, and shrugs. Shakes her head, all cool calm. "I'm good."
She leaves the axes where they are and turns from the target, walking past Johanna to where her shirt and shoes are.
The play of emotions that cross Kate's face are quick and interesting--too quick to really make very much of. Whatever's there, whatever Kate is thinking of--well, she composes herself well. That's admirable. But the abruptness of her departure is enough to suggest that Johanna has struck a nerve, somewhere in there. And that means she's come out on top for this round--always satisfying--but there's some sadness to winning so soon, when they could have kept playing.
Of course, she's only thinking this now that she's winning. A few minutes earlier and-- well, Johanna doesn't leave with dignity and grace, the way Kate is leaving. But there would have definitely been an exit made.
She watches Kate walk past her, raises her eyebrows as she observes that cross. "Don't tell me you're leaving. Come on, we were just going to start having fun again, you can't bow out now."
She's dignity and grace, she's Miss United States--. Well, two out of three, at the moment. Kate learned to smile with a stiff upper lip basically in the womb, and she smiles now, a politely slender thing that doesn't make it to her eyes. "I have other places to be," she says, shoving her feet into her shoes. It's efficient but not rushed. Rushing wouldn't send the message she's aiming for here.
She pulls on her shirt, tucks her gun into the back of her sweats. "I'm sure you'll find somebody else to play with. You don't need me, remember? And I need to wash my hair." She flashes Johanna another serene smile and turns her back, heading for the door.
"You have to wash your hair." She repeats those words, with flat incredulity. Come on, Kate--even in Panem, that's the oldest line in the book. "I don't see why. Your hair looks great."
But she's not going to act all needy, or draw this out too much. If Kate wants to run away, whatever. Fine. Typical. She shouldn't have started it if she didn't want to finish it. Johanna crosses her arms over her chest, her hip cocked off to the side as she watches Kate walk away.
"Oh, I get it. Excuses," she sighs, when Kate is nearly at the door. "I should have expected that. Need any help?"
That's the point, Johanna. Kate could've made up a plausible lie, and she could've delivered it so it sounded real; she just isn't worth the effort. She smiles at the compliment, but continues heading for the door.
There's no literal run in her departure, a casual saunter, checking her comm as she goes, thumb sliding across the screen to start typing a message. She looks back over her shoulder at the door, brows lifting at the offer. Her whole expression is unflappably well-mannered, except for something around the eyes that suggests she's enjoying this. That every word Johanna says, every question and complaint, is another point she's winning.
She smiles again, and shifts head and shoulders in another little shake/shrug. "No thanks, I'm all set." She gives the doorframe a pat, and exits.
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Nobody takes anything from me I don't give them, she wants to say, but that's too revealing and not true enough. Even if she could get the words out she'd rather not let Johanna have them. So she just tilts her head like she's considering, shoves down the roiling flare of anger before it can spend more than a split second on her face, and shrugs. Shakes her head, all cool calm. "I'm good."
She leaves the axes where they are and turns from the target, walking past Johanna to where her shirt and shoes are.
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Of course, she's only thinking this now that she's winning. A few minutes earlier and-- well, Johanna doesn't leave with dignity and grace, the way Kate is leaving. But there would have definitely been an exit made.
She watches Kate walk past her, raises her eyebrows as she observes that cross. "Don't tell me you're leaving. Come on, we were just going to start having fun again, you can't bow out now."
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She pulls on her shirt, tucks her gun into the back of her sweats. "I'm sure you'll find somebody else to play with. You don't need me, remember? And I need to wash my hair." She flashes Johanna another serene smile and turns her back, heading for the door.
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But she's not going to act all needy, or draw this out too much. If Kate wants to run away, whatever. Fine. Typical. She shouldn't have started it if she didn't want to finish it. Johanna crosses her arms over her chest, her hip cocked off to the side as she watches Kate walk away.
"Oh, I get it. Excuses," she sighs, when Kate is nearly at the door. "I should have expected that. Need any help?"
no subject
There's no literal run in her departure, a casual saunter, checking her comm as she goes, thumb sliding across the screen to start typing a message. She looks back over her shoulder at the door, brows lifting at the offer. Her whole expression is unflappably well-mannered, except for something around the eyes that suggests she's enjoying this. That every word Johanna says, every question and complaint, is another point she's winning.
She smiles again, and shifts head and shoulders in another little shake/shrug. "No thanks, I'm all set." She gives the doorframe a pat, and exits.